


Unknown Entity

by Angel_made_of_scars



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Jon is a journalist, M/M, Matt is a drug dealer, Reporter Jon Risinger, risingwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_made_of_scars/pseuds/Angel_made_of_scars
Summary: “Do me a favor. If the police ever come knocking, you don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. Throw out every reminder of me and forget I existed. Don’t try to help me.”





	Unknown Entity

They had been living together for a couple of months now, and Ryan still wouldn't let him hang photos of them together around the house. Jon stared at the blank walls sadly. He was a photographer, a journalist. He knew he wouldn't make Ryan look bad.

Still, he sat down at the kitchen table and put two plates of pasta down, waiting. Ryan was never late, always eight on the dot. Sure enough, he walked in the door, but he wasn't wearing his usual suit. He was wearing a blue biker jacket.

"Ryan?"

"I fucked up." Ryan said quickly.

"What's wrong? Did something happen at the office?" Jon asked, standing up and coming over. Ryan sighed and looked out the window. Jon just waited.

"You remember how I said I work at an office?" Ryan said.

"Yeah." Jon said quietly. He didn't like where this was going.

"Well it's more of a penthouse. It's- I've got partners, and, we... look..." he trailed off, trying to find the words.

"Are you a drug dealer or something?" Jon chuckled, but there was no humor. He was getting scared.

"Jon, do you have any pictures of me?" Ryan asked.

"Well... one. I got it while you were asleep."

"Destroy the SD card. Light it on fire." Ryan said.

"Ryan!"

"Do you love me?!" Ryan yelled, grabbing his arms. Jon froze.

"O-Of course. Of course I love you." 

"Then... listen to me." Ryan said. Jon finally nodded.

“Do me a favor. If the police ever come knocking, you don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. Throw out every reminder of me and forget I existed. Don’t try to help me.” Ryan said. Jon shuddered.

"Why are you saying this?"

"I have to go." Ryan said.

"Where?!"

"Jon, Jon hey, don't panic ok? I won't leave you. Not for long. I promise." Ryan said softly, kissing his forehead. Jon was tearing up, so he kissed his lips, savoring the feeling while it lasted.

"Get rid of any evidence of me. Just don't forget me." Ryan said, giving him a little smile. He pulled away and was out the door in seconds, before Jon could stop him.

He stood in the empty house and looked around. Any evidence. Whatever shit Ryan had gotten into, it was bad. But he trusted him.

He found his camera and took out the SD card, and put it in his cooking pot. He poured in a beer, and lit a match, tossing it in. It flared up, and Jon let it burn, until it was all cooked up, and the charred remains of the card were at the bottom.

He took a fork and pried the card out, then went to the backyard. He dug a spot under his flower garden and buried it. There. But what about all the evidence? His clothes, his hiking boots, his... well, come to think of it, that's all he had really contributed to the house.

Jon threw the dinner in the trash and put the dishes in the dishwasher numbly. Then he kicked off his shoes and fell into bed. He could donate the clothes tomorrow.

* * *

It hit three in the morning when the pounding came on the door. Jon flew out of bed, thinking he was going to answer the door for Ryan, but before he could get there it was broken down. Police stormed in, covered in swat gear, and Jon fell backwards onto the floor.

"What's going on?!" Jon shouted. A man finally walked in, more calmly, after everyone yelled 'clear' on each room, and he helped Jon up.

"Where's The Vagabond?" He asked.

"The... I'm just a journalist, I report on that gang."

"And how do you get to their crime scenes just in time to catch photos?"

"B-Because someone sends in tips." Jon admitted.

"And you didn't tell the police."

"They said if I got the police involved I would be gunned down. But I could help the police by getting the photos." Jon said helplessly.

"And you did. You caught a license plate. They got careless, they left it on their vehicle. And that vehicle parked here, reported by one of our officers, before he was killed in his car. The two vehicles have since been detonated far out of town, we found the remains." He summed up. Jon paled.

"Was there a body? In the car? The one I caught, that came here?" Jon asked.

"No. Shame, isn't it? We can only hope to find that freak burning." The officer spat.

"Ok, well, The Vagabond isn't here. He must have stolen my boyfriends car. My boyfriend lives here." Jon said.

"And what's your boyfriends name?" He asked. Jon remembered Ryan's words. You don't know me.

"Kirk... Thomas. Kirk Thomas." He lied.

"Kirk Thomas. We'll look into that, Mr..."

"R-Risinger." Jon said. He nodded.

"Why don't you sit down Mr. Risinger. Give me a description of this Kirk."

"Well... he has this blazing blue Mohawk..."

* * *

It was late the next evening that they let him out of the police station. There was no Kirk with blue hair. They just deemed The Vagabond had scammed him, wanting to see this journalist up close. Taking on a fake identity. It hit close to home. What if Ryan was The Vagabond? What if "Ryan" was the fake identity? He didn't even strip out of his work clothes, not even used that day, before falling into bed.

He felt like he had just fallen asleep, when he heard his window scream open. It was infamously loud. He sat up and blinked. At the foot of his bed, there he stood. The Vagabond. Black hair in a ponytail, face paint, and that damned blue jacket. There was a gun on his hip, and a knife in his hand.

"J-Jesus Christ- listen- don't-"

"Hey, hey, easy. I only picked the lock with this thing." He said quickly. He put the knife away, and Jon recognized his voice from a mile away.

"Ryan?"

"Come with me."

"I-I don't even know if you're real." Jon stuttered. His face fell.

"It's still me. I'm still Ryan Haywood, I promise."

"Vagabond."

"Ryan."

"Serial assassin."

"Ryan."

"Bank robber."

"Ryan." He whispered. He had climbed the bed, and now crouched above him. And he kissed him. And Jon melted, tears coming to his eyes.

"You're not here to kill me?"

"Jon, I love you. I'm here to take you home." Ryan said.

"Where is home?"

"You'll see. Get up, get your favorite things in a bag, you're never coming back." Ryan said, climbing off of him.

Jon jumped out of bed, and scrambled around his room. He was crazy. He was literally running away with a murderer. That thought was exhilarating. He found a bag and put his camera, and his family photo album in, and he stopped, because he looked at his typewriter. The old thing weighed a ton, but he hated to part with it. It was his first real love. Ryan sighed and got in front of him, lifting the thing off the desk.

"It'll have to fit on the bike somewhere. Come on." Ryan said. Jon grabbed his hat and put it on, and followed him outside, where he found a motorbike parked in their driveway.

"Where the hell did you get this?" Jon questioned.

"Job has its perks." Ryan said, stowing the machine in the back compartment. Jon slung the bag around his body and over his shoulder and watched Ryan climb on easily.

"What are you waiting for, sirens? Get on, hurry up." Ryan said. Jon hesitated.

"Promise me." Jon said.

"What?"

"Promise you're not a ruthless killer, or you won't be anymore. Promise it'll only come to those who deserve it. Promise you won't... just kill me. Promise you're my Ryan." Jon said. Ryan softened.

"Anything for you... I promise. I'm your Ryan." He said. He reached out and took Jons face, kissing him hard. Jon sighed as he pulled away.

"Ok."

He mounted the bike and held Ryan's waist tight as they sped off. They left the neighborhood and headed for town, and slowly, Jon got braver. He let go of Ryan with one hand to hold his hat on, while his vest and tie flapped in the wind. He cheered as Ryan gunned it, making him laugh.

"T-This is insane!" Jon cried.

"This is only the beginning." Ryan said back. Jon was sure that was true, as they drove up on a tall building, and started to slow. They entered a garage, and parked, and Jon looked around at the fancy cars.

"Rimmy Tim." Jon muttered, looking at the purple and orange monstrosity. Ryan chuckled.

"Hey, compliment that thing, he's proud of it. Or make fun of it, we all do." Ryan said. Jon swallowed. This was actually happening.

Ryan lifted his typewriter, and Jon fixed his hat on his head. He was really about to go into a crime layer. Ryan held the elevator for him, and he took a deep breath. He had to trust Ryan. He stepped in, and they headed up.

"So... is there anything I shouldn't do? Or should do?" Jon asked.

"Just be yourself." Ryan said, smiling down at him. He found that horribly ironic coming from someone with facepaint on to hide his identity. Still, he took it to heart as the elevator opened on a room of five... playing video games?

"Son of a bitch!" One yelled.

"You whore!" Another screamed. One of the men just giggled.

"You're about as good at driving video game planes as you are real ones. Always crash." The woman said, or, maybe woman. Her voice was very deep.

"Never blown us up! Have I?" The Brit shot back.

"Yeah you have! We smoke and have to parachute out before we blow!" The angry one yelled. Then they all turned, as Ryan cleared his throat.

"Hey, the new guy! We finally get to meet him." He said. Geoff. He recognized him after he turned to face him. Geoff got up and walked over, taking his hand and shaking it with a firm grip.

"Welcome to our place. There are still a few bedrooms left, but you can always just set up in Ryan's. Jack made lasagna, if you're hungry." Geoff said, pointing to the woman. Jack waved, and Jon smiled shyly.

"That's Michael, Gavin, and Jeremy-"

"Rimmy Tim is called Jeremy?" Jon blurted out.

"Sorry-" Jon started, but Jeremy and Geoff laughed.

"We got a nervous one here. He's just like you were." Geoff said.

"You really thought I was just named Rimmy Tim? Dumbass, get over here. Eat and play a game with us." Jeremy said.

"I'm gonna go wash this off. You're safe." Ryan promised, nudging him towards the couch. Jon shyly sat down between Jeremy and Gavin, and Michael was instantly on him.

"What's in the ditch bag?" Michael questioned.

"Michael..." Ryan called.

"Hey, did you get the money from Trevor?" Geoff called.

"In my pocket." Ryan called back.

"He pulled a heist before he picked me up?!" Jon asked.

"Nah, just a meeting." Geoff said.

"Seriously, Ryan carried your fucking typewriter, what's in the bag, journalist?" Michael asked.

"Uh- a camera. And a photo album. My family and stuff. He said I wasn't going back, so-"

"He's right. You have to quit your job too. You'll still write our articles, and we'll get them out in publishing. We know people at the newspaper. You'll just write from here instead of an office." Geoff said.

"I've got the best idea, guys, he could handle our income reports with Matt and Trevor, so we don't bloody have to. Give him a proper job here." Gavin spoke up. Michael looked at him.

"That's actually not a dumb idea. How are you with money Jon?" Michael asked.

"Probably better than Gavin." Jack spoke up. They all laughed, and when Geoff calmed down, he studied Jon.

"Think you could do it?" Geoff asked.

"Handle... all your stolen money... um, I mean, I guess I'm good at finances, I could try-" Jon started.

"Perfect. Get him a beer Michael." Geoff interrupted.

"It's three thirty in the morning!" Jon said. Michael laughed.

"Yeah, time to chug!" Michael said, forcing an open bottle into his hands.

"Chug, chug, chug, chug..." they all started. Jon sighed and chuckled a bit. They were really kind of... fun. He lifted the beer to his lips, and turned the bottle up.

Every swallow, they chanted louder, until Jon felt like he was drowning, and finally he dropped an empty bottle on the floor. He leaned over, feeling sick, and burped loudly. Everyone cheered. Feeling a little better, he sat up and looked around. Everyone was smiling. He caught sight of Ryan standing by the wall, watching him with an amused smirk.

"Least you didn't throw up like I did." Gavin said, patting his shoulder. Another burp came out and he found himself laughing as well.

"Alright, we've tortured him enough. Ryan, you can have him." Jack said.

"Thanks, uh, you're all jackasses." Ryan said, coming over and taking Jons hand, tugging him off the couch. They all burst into laughter.

"What, just cause we almost drowned your boyfriend?" Geoff chuckled. Ryan flipped them off, which only made them laugh harder.

"Come on, come to bed with me." Ryan said.

Jon followed him hand in hand, and let Ryan pull him away from the laughter into a nice bedroom, where he saw a desk in the corner by a window. His typewriter was already set up, next to a mug with a couple pens and pencils, and a brand new laptop. The chair was nice and padded, just like Jon would have picked himself.

"Is this my new set up?" Jon asked.

"Yep, and you can put you camera right there, and nobody bothers it but you. And uh, the family stuff I keep under the bed in the drawers." Ryan showed him. He had an old kids toy, a photo album, and a few framed pictures. Jon put his album in next to them, and Ryan shut the drawer.

He started stripping, and Jon tossed the bag to the side, along with his hat and tie. Next came his vest, and dress shirt. He figured he was following the lead. He finally shucked his shoes, socks, and dress pants, and fell down in the bed where Ryan was waiting.

"I was thinking of dyeing my hair. Back to blonde I mean. Maybe getting a cut. What do you think?" Ryan asked.

"Like blonde?"

"Well dirty blonde, gold, yeah." Ryan said. Jon thought about it and nodded.

"I could see that." Jon smiled.

"Wouldn't change me too much?"

"I literally just found out your a serial killer in a gang of bank robbers who frequently assassinates large people, I don't think you can change much more." Jon said. Ryan laughed.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Turning you upside down I mean. But- I mean- do you like it here?" Ryan asked hopefully.

"I... It's insane, but... I do. It's incredible. And your gang are like drunk frat members, I thought they'd be all business. You know... killers." Jon said nervously.

"Nah, not us. We just do it for fun. And the only people that get taken out are people we're hired to hit, or people who get in our way." Ryan said.

"But... like I said, can you try to keep police and civilian casualties to a minimum?" Jon asked, nervous again. Ryan chuckled.

"Like I said, anything for you." Ryan said, pulling him closer to kiss. They laid there for a moment, just making out, before Ryan pulled up the covers.

"Tomorrow Matt is coming. He was going to talk finance with Gavin, but since you're here, I think I'll take the boys out and handle business. Matt is a drug dealer, but low down on the chain. Wouldn't hurt a fly. Think you can handle it?" Ryan asked. Jon swallowed, then nodded. He had to start somewhere.

"I know you're nervous, but this will be great, I promise." Ryan said. He kissed him again, and pulled him close, so Jon had his head tucked against Ryan's chest.

"I missed you." Ryan said.

"Missed you too." Jon said.

"Sleep well." Ryan whispered. Jon relaxed, and felt himself drift off.

* * *

When Jon awoke, he jumped out of his skin. There was a man sitting in his desk chair just watching him. He laughed and put his feet up on the desk.

"Sorry, haven't been creeping too long. I wondered when you'd wake up and couldn't pass up the opportunity to scare the new guy. Listen, they're gonna be gone all day, so... why don't we just chill with some beer and watch tv for a while? I really don't want to start all this work crap so early." He said. Jon caught his breath.

"You must be Matt."

"Yeah, pleasure. I'm who you hit up for finances and weed." Matt said smugly.

"Ok... yeah, tv. I'll pass on the breakfast beer. Shit, what do I wear?" Jon asked.

"Gavin's stuff. Until we can get you some new clothes." Ryan said, entering the room with a t-shirt and jeans.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah, I decided not to leave you on your first day. But Matt insisted on meeting you." Ryan chuckled. Jon tried not to grin, but the scowl was failing.

"You're a bitch." Jon said finally, making them both crack up.

"Come on, get dressed and I'll make us some pancakes." Ryan said. Jon finally smiled.

"Ok." He relented, accepting the kiss as Ryan leaned down.

"See you in a few." Matt said, exiting the room with Ryan.

Jon flopped back in the soft bed. He wasn't sure what he had gotten into. But he was sort of enjoying it.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by @Prompt-dealer on Tumblr :D


End file.
